


Harry Works Out

by mothermalfoy (slytherinxravenclaw)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fitness vlogger Harry, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Youtube AU, beauty guru Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-03 18:50:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinxravenclaw/pseuds/mothermalfoy
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a beauty YouTuber who stumbles upon a fitness YouTuber, Harry Potter. When Draco mentions in a video his newfound obsession, the two begin talking back and forth and agree to a collab/date.





	1. Chapter 1

Draco wasn’t really sure how it happened. One minute he was watching one of his fellow beauty gurus review the latest palette from one of Draco’s favorite makeup brands, and the next he’d fallen down the rabbit hole of suggested videos. Half a dozen makeup vlogs, a drama video about some guru Draco had never heard of, and a vine compilation later Draco had found himself face to face with his new obsession. 

Harry’s Workout Vlogs. 

In the three videos Draco had watched in two hours, Draco had learned that the man in question (the  _very_ fit man) lived in London, and worked as a member of Scotland Yard. His channel had started as a challenge to showcase his progress while he trained, and he had gained a great deal of followers in a short amount of time. Draco could see why. The bronzed half-naked Adonis (for he often worked out in just basketball shorts, and tight lycra pants that accentuated his leg muscles filmed 20-45 minute vlogs simply of him working out. The first one Draco had watched, had included Harry doing pushups, squat thrusts, and situps, all while the camera (Draco suspected he had a cameraman) followed him around his home gym. Draco had salivated as he watched video after video of the man working out. Quickly subscribing and resisting the urge to like every single video the man posted. 

In his recent videos, the well-muscled man had begun sporting a messy black bun, and a bit of a beard that made Draco  _inconsolably_ aroused, and in need of a cold shower. 

Following Harry’s YouTube channel had led to some  _light_ Instagram stalking where Draco had learned the man was single, despite a pretty redhead who often worked out with him, and whom Draco suspected was Harry’s ex. Draco had also learned the man was the  _king_ of thirst traps. His Insta contained more than a few photos of him in just a towel tagged #postworkoutshower. 

It was all Draco could do not to drool, as he followed all the man’s social media accounts and deep in the rabbit hole of Harry’s Instagram. Draco was beginning to worry for his mental health and decided now was good a time as any to play around with some new makeup he’d received in PR. 

Draco  _loved_ makeup. Ever since he was a little boy Draco had always enjoyed playing around in his mother’s vanity, putting on her lipstick and blush. He’d considerably upgraded since then. A modeling contract for a clothing company, his own palette collab coming in the next year, and being on the PR list for MAC had all made Draco feel particularly thrilled about his YouTube career as of late. 

Draco turned on his camera, adjusting his overlarge sweater so it fell off his left shoulder, and pushed his mid-length blond hair behind his ear. 

“ Hey guys, it’s Draco,” he began. “Today I really wanted to play around with some brand new makeup,” he said, holding up the multitude of items he’d received in PR. “I know you guys have been asking me for a live vlog and a collab, rest assured,  _both_ are coming. I actually have a secret collab project I’m working one with one of my favorite beauty gurus but in the meantime. Let’s play with this new primer,” he said holding up the glass bottle as he pumped it into his hand and began to rub it over his face. “I don’t know about you all but I recently fell down this YouTube rabbit hole, and I’ve become  _ob-sessed_ with this workout YouTuber,” Draco smirked. “I didn’t even know this was a thing! This fit dude HarrysWorkout Channel or something, just like, works out for half an hour or so. Not even talking, like there’s some Weird Sister’s type music playing in the background, but it’s  _fascinating,”_ Draco had moved onto the new foundation that he was showing off before he put it on. “I’m not even sure how this got recommended to me but holy shit is it everything. And speaking of  _everything,_ this foundation is literally everything right now,” he stared at his perfect complexion in the monitor as he filmed and hummed. “Perfection,” he made a little kissy face before he continued with the rest of his makeup routine.   


Several hours later, Draco had posted the video, and within 20 minutes it had received a hundred thousand views and several thousand comments. Draco smirked as he scrolled through them quickly. 

_I_ have  _to see this now._ One comment read. 

_Link!!!_ read another. 

_Draco, I_ LOVE  _that palette you recommended, also I just got into workout YouTube. HarrysWorkout tho, Hot damn!_

Draco smirked, liking that particular comment before he went to check his Instagram and noticed a new DM. Draco sighed, wondering what fan had decided to DM him now when he saw the name. @ HarryWorksout, Draco nearly screamed as went to his DM’s to find the message from Harry. 

_HarryWorksOut: Just saw you mentioned me in your latest vid. Thanks. :)_

Draco could almost scream. 

_HarryWorksOut: Subscribed by the way ;)_

Draco  _did_ scream then. 

_DracosWorld: To a beauty channel?_

_HarryWorksOut: I can’t like pretty things?_

Draco thought he might faint, as he typed away furiously. 

_Dracosworld: Well, as long as that pretty thing is me and my channel I suppose I can tolerate it. lol._

_HarryWorksOut: More you than your channel actually._

Draco stared at his phone, disbelieving.  _Was this really happening right now?_

_HarryWorksOut: Actually I was wondering if we couldn’t do a little collab?_

Draco snorted. 

_DracosWorld: I shockingly don’t work out. And you don’t strike me as the makeup type._

_HarryWorksout: Lol. Sometimes I do non-workout videos. My fans have been beginning me to do a speaking video. Something about wanting to hear my voice I guess._

Draco considered this. He could certainly see the appeal. He’d bet anything his voice was low and strong like Harry himself was. 

_DracosWorld: What did you have in mind?_

_HarryWorksOut: Hmm. I guess just a get to know you vlog or something? Or you could take me somewhere to get a less workouty wardrobe._

_Dracosworld: Lol. Idk the workout gear seems to be getting you pretty far._

_HarryWorksOut: True, but I want to have something nice to wear for like, dates and stuff, and business meetings. My manager’s been getting tons of offers for workout sponsorships, and clothes deals, I want to look profesh you know._

_DracosWorld: Start by never saying, profesh again. I suppose I can help you. Any specific time?_

Draco ignored the date part of the question. 

_HarryWorksOut: I’m free Saturday._

Draco hated how eager he felt as he typed back the swift reply. 

_DracosWorld: I can move some things around. Saturday will be fine. I’ll come to you since I’m all the way in Wiltshire._

_HarryWorksOut: It’s a date._

_DracosWorld: How very presumptuous to assume I’m both gay and the least bit interested._

Draco wanted to laugh at himself. Too bad his humor had gone unappreciated. Draco sighed reading the response. 

_HarryWorksOut: Oh. Sorry. I guess, I just thought. You know… beauty guru and all. Plus I was pretty sure you talked about your ex-boyfriend once._

Draco was impressed, that had been almost two years ago now. 

_DracosWorld: How long have you been subscribed to my channel exactly?_

He needn’t have asked, he could always look it up. 

_HarryWorksOut: Long enough._

_DracosWorld: Fine, it’s a date. But I’ll not be working out, so just forget it._

_HarryWorksOut: :) Can’t wait, Draco. Love the sass by the way._

Draco grinned at his phone like an idiot. He had a date, with a fit as fuck YouTuber, who he’d get to dress. What more could he ask for? 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the week passed dreadfully slowly for Draco. He managed to move from DMing to texting Harry, almost nightly leading up to the date, and in that time he’d learned quite a bit more about the man. Like how Harry had joined Scotland Yard because his father had been a detective who had been brutally murdered when Harry was young. His mother had raised him largely alone for many years until she’d remarried his High School Chemistry teacher, Mr. Snape. Harry hadn’t liked the man in school but he’d been good to Harry’s mother and so Harry had been able to forgive his less than stellar teaching skills. He’d also learned that Harry, like him, was an only child.

As Saturday approached, Draco found himself feeling increasingly nervous for his upcoming date though he didn’t know why. Draco had dated lots of fit blokes in the past, and more than a few YouTubers. But there was something about Harry that Draco couldn’t help but find enthralling. He was different, though Draco couldn’t say how.

That morning, Draco awoke promptly at 6 to get ready. He was almost tempted to go for a run, as Harry might do, and found himself instead pulling on joggers and a hoodie to walk briskly to Starbucks for a venti soy-Frappuccino, extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce, and a donut. Vaguely Draco wondered if Harry would be the sort of health-obsessed man who would judge him for not being the healthiest eater. He’d experienced it once before, and Draco wasn’t sure he could handle hating Harry’s guts before they even managed their first proper date because he was judging his eating habits. 

By the time he’d reached the Manor, Draco had finished his donut and a quarter of his drink. Sighing happily, he bound up the stairs to his bedroom and made his way into his closet to pick out an outfit for his date later that afternoon. Draco wasn’t sure what it meant that they’d agreed to a lunch date, but considering they were planning to film, Draco supposed that it made sense. 

Pulling out his phone, Draco took a picture of several outfits laid out on his bed and shot a text to Pansy. 

_DM: Got a lunch date with a fellow YouTuber. We’re collabing too, not sure if this is a business date or a date-date, or both._

Draco swore under his breath. How long had it even been since he’d  _been_ on a date? A year? Two? His last serious relationship seemed like it had been an eternity ago, and his last shag… Draco didn’t dare think about it. He was dedicated to his work and his love life had collapsed accordingly. His ex, didn’t  _want_ to be a YouTube celebrity or with one. It was too much pressure, he’d said. Draco had almost convinced him to stay a little while longer when a fan had found Draco’s address and showed up at the Manor unannounced. Horrified, both by the fan and Draco’s signing an autograph before calling the police, his boyfriend had left. 

Draco had been single ever since. 

_PP: Depends. The grey one says business, but the black one says you wanna be shagged. Pick your poison. You’ll look hot either way babe._

Draco smiled at his phone. He adored his friend Pansy. The two had practically grown up together, and as such, she had featured in many of his videos over the last few years through his rise to fame. Draco looked at the black outfit, a black button-down with tight black slacks, and black Oxfords. He considered a cardigan for a little pop of color. Or a smart vest.  _No no, vests are out!_ Draco chastised, he turned back to the closet staring at the array of ties hanging there. An emerald green with silver accents called out to him. Green always  _had_ been his favorite color, and silver brought out his eyes. 

Walking back to his phone Draco typed another question to Pansy. 

_DM: Should I bring Greg to film? If it’s a date-date that’s awkward. But if it’s a business date and I don’t bring I camera guy I’m stuck dealing with filming myself, which doesn’t look as good and makes it harder to shop._

_PP: Why don’t you ask your loverboy?_

Draco rolled his eyes.  
_DM: Then he’ll assume I_ think  _it’s a date-date, and he’ll think me desperate._

_PP: Aren’t you?_

_DM: Cow!_

_PP: I’m getting shagged on a regular basis. Can you say the same?_

Draco groaned. Pansy was right of course, the bitch. Draco switched over to his conversation with Harry and tried to think of the best way to phrase it so it would sound casual. 

_DM: I know we talked about a collab, should I bring my camera guy Greg?_

Draco waited, feeling as though the world were moving in slow motion as the typing bubble appeared on his iPhone and Draco waited for Harry’s message to come through. 

_HP: Sure. Did you want to film separate vids for both our channels? And if so, what should we do for yours?_

Draco considered this. They couldn’t simply post the same video on each of their channels, which meant they would have to do something special for Draco’s audience of five million makeup watchers. 

_DM: Would it be weird to like, do push-ups with me on your back while I try to do my makeup?_

_HP: I’m certain I could manage. ;)_

_DM: Sounds like a new challenge. Doing my makeup on a fitness guru’s back. I’ll have to come up with better phrasing than that but you get my drift._

_HP: Push-up Makeup Challenge._

_DM: Oooh I like it. You really have been watching my channel._

_HP: My ex is a big fan. She learned how to do winged eyeliner watching your vids._

_DM: I’m so proud._

By 9:30, Draco was dressed to the nines, showered, his hair styled perfectly so as to look effortless. He had debated wearing makeup, justifying that while he wouldn’t  _normally_ do so on a date, at least not to an obvious extent, it felt out of character for him not to do so for a video. 

He’d had settled for a ‘no-makeup’ makeup look. BB cream, light concealer, a light, nude eye, and a pink lip that matched his perfectly but still gave him a bit more of a pronounced pout. Draco topped it off with a generous spritz of MAC Fix+ and made his way down the stairs to his car. 

He picked up Greg first, stopping at his cameraman’s flat before the two started off, into the city. Halfway through the drive, Draco’s phone rang. It was Harry.  

“Hey Dray,” Harry’s voice came through the car’s speakers. Thus far they’d only called each other a handful of times, though Harry had not to Draco’s knowledge ever called him Dray before. Greg quirked an eyebrow at him, but Draco shook his head. “I got reservations at the restaurant first. Then I figured we could go down to Bon Street do a bit of shopping.” 

“Reservations?” Draco repeated.   


“We gotta eat, and I figured you can’t just take Draco Malfoy to a chip shop.” Harry teased.   


Draco laughed. “I suppose I do cultivate that image don’t I?” 

“You live in a mansion in Wiltshire.”   


“Manor,” Draco corrected. “It’s a family property. It’s not as if I bought it myself.”   


“Meanwhile I live in a flat near the station.”   


“Oh please, you love being able to jog to work,” Draco said. Harry hummed on the other end of the line. “I’ve thought about moving to London proper, but my whole life is in Wiltshire, you know?” This was  _mostly_ true. Draco’s parents were still in Wiltshire. His friends, not including Greg, had all moved to London the moment they’d gone to college. It was more convenient they’d reasoned. Wiltshire was too far from everything, it was a world away from everyone else. That was, Draco thought, part of its appeal.

“Oh yeah. I grew up in Surrey so it was kind of hard to move away.” Draco knew Harry had moved for his ex. The two had been high school sweethearts who had realized after six months of living together in college that it wasn’t going to work out. Draco couldn’t help but feel good about that fact, though he didn[t want to think too hard on why. “Can’t wait to finally get to meet you in person,” Harry said, and Draco was sure he could hear him grinning through the phone. Draco blushed at that.   


“Can’t wait to be met by you,” Draco said. No sooner had the words fallen out of his mouth than Draco swore under his breath again, Harry and Greg laughed. “I hate you both. Goodbye,” Draco growled. 

“Bye,” Harry said his voice sing-song as Draco hung up the phone.   


“Can’t wait to be met by you,” Greg repeated, through his laughter. Draco glared at the traffic, unwilling to take his eyes off the road.   


“Arse!” Greg let out another giggle and Draco groaned. He was starting to act like a besotted fool and Draco didn’t need that.   


 * * *

Two hours later, Draco and Greg stepped out of Draco’s Tesla and made their way towards the restaurant Harry had texted them the address to half an hour earlier. Not for the first time, Draco was grateful for the upbringing that had always taught him to dress for any occasion. Walking into the upscale restaurant Draco fit in perfectly. 

Harry was already sat, somewhat in the back, away from the windows, “A precaution,” Harry had said as Draco sat across from him, and Greg sat beside Draco. Draco suddenly felt awkward for having brought his cameraman, but Harry was smiling at him as though it were the most natural thing in the world and Draco couldn’t bring himself to feel particularly upset about it any longer. Harry was even more handsome in person, Draco thought. “How was your drive?” he asked. 

“Long,” Greg complained. Draco glared.   


“It was fine,” Draco said with a smile. Harry raised an eyebrow at that, noting Greg’s pained face.   


“How long is the drive from Wiltshire to London?” Harry asked.   


“Not too bad,” Draco said, as Greg answered again.   


“Two bloody hours, though with traffic on the M4 it feels like a bloody eternity.”   


Draco sighed pinching the bridge of his nose, barely concealing the rage that threatened to lash out at his friend for clearly attempting to sabotage his date. Harry merely smiled at him all the while. 

“Well, I’m glad you came all this way. Let’s order lunch, and then we can shop. You can pick whatever designer you want, but you understand I don’t know anything about them, and I’m sure I won’t be able to pull them off, near as well as you do.” Draco blushed at that.   


“I’m sure you’ll pull off what I pick for you just fine,” Draco said with a grin. 

The rest of the lunch portion of their date went off swimmingly. Harry was the perfect gentleman, and Draco was certain he was falling for him.  _Wonder if he’ll pin me up against a wall in Hermès and snog me senseless? Wouldn’t that be a thumbnail?_ Draco snickered to himself. It really had been much too long since his last shag. 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Harry looked nervous, “Never been to Prada before,” he said, as the two approached the shop. Draco eyed him, incredulous, then smirked.

“Good thing you’re with me then,” he said slipping his arm into Harry’s. Harry placed his hand on top of Draco’s as it sat on his bicep. Draco smiled, turning back to Greg. “Filming Greg?” he asked. The cameraman threw him a thumbs up as he moved around to the front of them, filming them as they walked towards the camera. A moment later a salesperson approached.

“Can I get you some champagne?” she asked.

“Yes,” Draco said, just as Harry said no. Draco frowned at that. “It’s part of the experience.”

Harry leaned into Draco’s ear, “I’m an alcoholic,” he confessed. Draco nodded as he turned back to the salesperson.

“Right, sorry, just sparkling water please,” he said, kindly. Harry frowned.

“You don’t have to…” he started, Draco waved him off mid-sentence.

“It’s fine,” he promised, flashing him his signature smile that always got Draco what he wanted. Harry grinned back all the same. “So. Traditionally you seem to prefer athletic wear and presumably a uniform to actual suits, so this will be fun,” he said moving Harry towards the sportscoats. “Now, you’re quite a bit more tan than I am, but I think a basic black for starters will be great, then a grey if you want to be a bit more daring. Oh, and a Navy Blue.”

“Grey is daring?” Harry asked.

“For you? Yes. For anyone else? Hot pink is daring.” Harry chuckled at that.

“Pink’s a little too flashy for my taste. I want something that says I’m bi and lowkey about it.” Draco cut his eyes to the camera for a moment as he took in that little piece of information.

“Point taken,” Draco said, as he pulled off several sportscoats and handed them to Harry, try them on. “Next you’ll need slacks, they should match the blazer,” this Draco told both Harry and the camera. “The only exception, of course, is black because it goes with anything.”

“ _That_ I knew,” Harry said triumphantly. Draco laughed, offering Harry’s arm a pat.

“Bravo, darling. Now then for button-ups, they don’t _have_ to match, but they should be complimentary. White is always a safe shirt color, as is black of course. Navy with these blazers would be good, Grey, emerald maybe, red but not with the navy pants, you understand.” Harry nodded along taking in everything Draco was saying. “Now for tie's, we’ll go to Hermès, nothing personal but I have a weakness for their tie collection. Plus I have a new Birkin that I’ve been waiting for forever.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, “I feel like I should know that one.”

“Purses darling do keep up. I guess I shouldn’t expect _you_ to know that. You are _tragically_ heterosexual acting. I bet you play sports don’t you?”

“I played football in high school,” Harry said with a shrug.

Draco hummed at that, “I thought as much. Right well try on the coat,” he said. Harry nodded, pulling on the blazer. “What do you think?” he asked more to the camera than to Harry as he stood back. Harry looked impossibly more handsome with the blazer. Even with his navy blue sweater and blue jeans. “Of course it’ll look better with the proper accouterments but for now I think this will do just fine. Comfortable?”

For a moment Harry didn’t answer until Draco placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Oh, that was for me. Sorry. Yes very.”

Draco nodded. “We’ll take the lot then.” Guessing Harry’s jacket size correctly had been an unexpected victory for Draco. Harry had broad shoulders and a considerable amount of muscle which had led to Draco guessing at least two sizes up from himself.

Harry eyed him for a second. “All of them?” he hadn’t looked at the price, Draco knew, but he suspected that was for the best.

“Yes, of course, you can’t just wear the same ones,” Draco said.

Harry sighed nodding all the same. Three sportscoats, five pairs of slacks, and several thousand dollars later, the two left Prada arm in arm again and made their way towards Hermès.

“I don’t think I’ve ever spent that much money in my life,” Harry admitted once they were out of the store, their bags in tow. Draco laughed.

“Then you’ll definitely _love_ the rest of this shopping spree,” he said.

Harry sighed, looking somewhat defeated as he nodded. Draco frowned, turning to Greg signaling for him to cut.

“We don’t have to do this you know,” Draco assured him, standing in front of Harry. Harry smiled weakly, and Draco suddenly felt very guilty.

“I do _want_ a proper wardrobe,” he said. I’m just not used to all of these posh shops and clothes.”

“I suppose you normally get your lot at M&S?” Draco said.

“Or Primark,” Harry added. Draco groaned.

“Well, if you would _prefer_ that I’m sure I can find a way to make it work. Actually, that could be an interesting video. I’m not sure I’ve ever been in a Primark or M&S.” Harry laughed shaking his head.

“It’s fine. I _have_ the money. It’s just. We weren’t wealthy growing up. I didn’t start making money with YouTube until last year or so and sometimes I worry it might all go away you know?” Draco nodded, he didn't like to think about it, but he'd worried that himself. 

“I imagine the Met doesn’t pay as well as YouTube does,” Draco said. Harry laughed.

“Nothing pays as well as this has, and we’re lucky. Most of my subscribers are kids who want to grow up to be just like me. I don’t want to be that rich prat who wears designer clothes all the time, you know?” Draco stared at him, arms folded across his chest. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Draco lied. “Truth be told, you don’t have to wear it _all_ the time. It’s just for special occasions. I’m sure the Met has some police charity balls or something, don’t they?” Draco was certain his father had attended one or two when he was younger, though now he could hardly remember. Harry merely smiled at him, leaning in close to Draco instead of responding. So close their lips were almost touching, and Draco forgot what they were talking about now. Draco gasped, Harry was several inches taller than him and had to lean down to kiss him properly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you at the restaurant,” Harry said against his lips a moment later.

“I rather wish you had,” Draco admitted, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m glad I waited.”

“Oh?” Draco asked with a smirk. Harry nodded, pressing their lips together once more, firmer this time, deeper. It was magical, Draco thought as Harry’s fingers dug into his hips, and his tongue explored Draco’s mouth. It was all Draco could do not to moan.

“We’re going to attract the paps if we keep this up,” Draco said, a moment later. Snogging in broad daylight on Bon Street was bound to attract attention, Draco thought.

“Paps? What are you Lady Gaga?”

“Once, for Halloween. Don’t ruin my secret identity.” At this Harry chuckled.

“Come on then,” he said taking Draco’s arm and pulling him towards the next store. They had barely stepped foot in when a loud, excited voice called out.

“DRACO?” a golden blond haired man approached them excitedly, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist, all but shoving Harry to the side.

“Theodore, darling,” Draco replied, the two sharing an air kiss.

“I was just about to call you. Your Birkin came in,” he said. Draco clapped excitedly. Harry smiled as he watched Draco’s excitement, then froze as the man, caught sight of him. “Who’s the hunk?” he asked.

Harry blushed at that, Draco couldn’t help but chuckle. “This is Harry. Harry here is a fitness blogger,” Draco said.

“I’ll bet,” Theo looked Harry up and down as if he meant to devour him. The brunette swallowed, wrapping an arm around Draco’s waist as if to make it very clear he was already spoken for. “Always the lucky one aren’t we Draco?”

“I’m sure your husband will be very sorry to hear you say that.”

Theo scoffed, “I can still look.” Draco snorted, _leer more like._

“Theo… my bag?”

“Oh, right,” Theo gave Harry one last look and turned on his heel leaving the two of them alone in the front of the store.

“Sorry about him, he’s not as cultured as the rest of us. _New money,_ you know,” Draco said with a mock sneer. Harry laughed.

“ _I’m_ new money,” he said.

“Oh. Right. Tragically, Theo isn’t new money. The Notts were fairly wealthy for a time before their grandfather squandered it on some bad investment or other." Harry nodded leaning in close to Draco as he spoke. “Actually he’s just a slut.”

“His flirting would be charming, were I not already far too interested in another blond,” Harry said pressing his lips to Draco’s neck. Draco bit back a moan. _Were they still filming?_ Draco had lost track of Greg and the camera, though he was fairly certain he’d lost track of his brain the moment Harry had decided to ravish his neck. “You’re so beautiful when you blush, you know that?” Draco couldn’t hold back his moan then. He could feel his cheeks heating further as Theo had returned just then, holding his lilac colored Birkin. Draco’s hand shook as he reached out for the purse. Theo merely smiled at him.

“Would you like to use the back room?” he asked.

Harry chuckled against his skin. “That’s fine, my flat’s just up the road,” Harry said, placing one last kiss to Draco’s neck before he pulled away. Draco shuddered, the two of them walking back out of the store.

“What about the ties?” Draco asked.

“Fuck the ties,” Harry said latching his lips against Draco’s once more. Draco groaned, allowing himself to be held when several cameras flashed in their face suddenly.

“Oh bloody hell,” Draco groaned, dragging himself away from Harry’s lips.

“Does this happen to you often?” Harry asked, his hand never leaving Draco’s lower back. Draco sighed.

“Unfortunately. I’m sure this is all Theo’s doing. That bitch.” Harry nodded, pulling Draco towards his car taking the drivers side while Draco took the passenger seat. Greg slipped into the backseat and the trio sped off.

“Were you serious about going to your flat?” Draco asked.

“Why not?” Harry replied. Draco grinned, a small part of him wanting to tell Greg to find his own way back to Wiltshire.

“I can stay with Pans,” Greg suggested. Draco smiled at his best friend. Thank god they all understood his desperate need for a shag. Draco gave Harry the directions to Pansy’s flat, and a few moments later, it was just the two of them.

Draco couldn’t help but be grateful for it, even if their interaction hadn’t quite produced a video. A small thrill ran up Draco’s spine at the thought of going back to Harry’s flat, and letting the man have his wicked way with him. 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been following and enjoying this. This chapter ended up being a bit longer than I originally anticipated so I'll be cutting up Christmas eve shown here and Christmas day. On Tumblr (mothermalfoy.tumblr.com) I promised angst but I guess that'll be more in the next chapter than this one.

Two months later, two weeks before Christmas, Draco found himself sitting at the dining room table in Harry’s flat, eating Indian takeout for the third time that week. He’d barely gone home for more than a day in that time, mostly to pick up extra clothes, his laptop, and camera from Greg, and a few other life essentials, since Harry didn’t seem to know what proper hair care products were.  They weren’t _living together_ exactly, Draco wasn’t sure what to call it, or if he really wanted to put a label on it. Only that it was easier for him to spend time at Harry’s, and film there, then go all the way back to Wiltshire. It was an awfully long drive, he’d argued, mostly with himself whenever he thought to question it, or Pansy when, on the rare occasion he could be arsed to pull himself out of Potter’s warm embrace and hang out with her, she had judged him. Pansy had merely given him ‘the look’. The look that said, ‘ _You don’t fool me Draco Malfoy.’_ They had been friends long enough now that Pansy knew Draco better than he knew himself. Not that he’d ever tell her such a thing, lest she lord it over him forever. _The cunning witch,_ Draco had thought, shaking his head. Draco knew she was right of course, all of his friends lived in London (save Greg) which meant he had plenty of people he could have stayed with that weren’t Harry. None of them would have turned him away had he actually bothered to ask. The problem was, of course, it hadn’t even _occurred_ to Draco to not stay with Harry. At no point in the last two months had Draco even thought about living anywhere else. Not that Harry had seemed particularly bothered by it. He’d even cleaned out a drawer for Draco, and a space on his bathroom counter, and if they didn’t talk about it or what they were, well, Draco couldn’t be blamed for that.

“So, you inviting him to the annual Malfoy Christmas Ball?” Pansy had asked at brunch, earlier that same day. It was less a question than an assertion of fact, but Pansy had phrased it as a question, all the same, giving him ample opportunity to attempt to deny it. Draco swallowed his sip of ale, plucking a chip from her plate.

“Perhaps,” he had said. Pansy smirked as though she’d won some sort of prize in making him admit that. Perhaps she had. Draco had never been good with his feelings, they were dangerous, especially in the hands of someone who could turn them into a weapon to use against him. Not that Pansy would. Still, admitting to her that he wanted his parents to meet Harry was as good as admitting he was horribly, undeniably in love. 

“I thought as much,” she had said. “Face it, love, you’ve got it bad.” Draco had groaned, burying his face in his hands at that. Pansy being able to read him like this had been almost too much for Draco to bear. “There, there,” she said patting his shoulder. “You were bound to fall for _someone_ sooner or later.”

“Cow,” Draco hissed.

Now, sitting across from Harry, who was stuffing his face with Tandoori chicken, Draco couldn’t help but wonder why he’d ever been questioning any of this in the first place. There was no denying his feelings either. Draco Malfoy was hopelesslyin love. Draco sighed, happily.

“You alright hon? You’ve barely touched your chicken,” Harry said a moment later. There was something about the worried look on his face as he eyed Draco that made Draco only want to fall in love with him more.

“Fine, I’m perfectly fine,” Draco said. “Though I did want to ask you something, that could potentially be major.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, frowning a little. “Should I be worried?”

“Perhaps,” Draco admitted. He knew he was being dramatic, but he also knew what his parents were like, and how _big_ a deal it would be if they were at the stage in their relationship to be meeting each other's parents. Harry just stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on. “Every year my parents hold a Christmas Ball at the Manor,” Draco said. “Usually I’d be helping mother with hostess duties, but given I haven’t really been home much lately,” he trailed off, stuffing his mouth full of naan bread for a distraction. “Anyway,” he continued, speaking behind his hand as he chewed. “I was wondering if maybe you might like to join me. Assuming you don’t have any other plans,” he added quickly.

Harry grinned at him. “You had me worried there for a second,” he said. “I’d love to go.” 

“Perfect,” he said grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. _Christmas couldn’t come soon enough_ , he thought.  

Draco had of course been wrong about that. Christmas had definitely arrived far too soon. Two weeks later, found Draco fiddling with his bowtie for the fourth time in as many minutes. His hands were shaking and he could hardly manage to get it straight. Why had he ever thought this was a good idea, he wondered. His father was going to hate Harry on principal. A police officer? Not _nearly_ good enough for a Malfoy by far. It was bad enough Draco had to be a poof, though his father had accepted that well enough, but to date someone as common as that? Draco snorted. Harry was perfect, he thought, but he knew there would be no convincing Lucius of that. He’d probably have a heart attack and die on the spot, so there was that to look forward too, Draco thought with a dark chuckle.

“Everything is going to be fine Dray,” Harry promised, adjusting his bowtie for him. Draco stared into Harry’s emerald eyes, feeling his worries melt away instantly. _Sod his father and his posh rules,_ Draco thought. Harry made him happy, and that would have to be enough for the man. Harry gave him a soft peck on the lips and Draco found himself smiling in spite of everything. “Ready?” he asked. Draco nodded, taking Harry’s hand, as the two of them left Harry’s flat and made their way down to the car. They’d arrived in Wiltshire the day before and opted to stay in a hotel, much to Narcissa’s chagrin. Draco _knew_ better, however. His father would not make a scene meeting Harry for the first time if they were surrounded by various friends and important persons that Lucius would want to impress. Draco _needed_ the buffer.

Malfoy Manor stood tall and foreboding against the rich indigo sky of Wiltshire. Snow dotted the grounds, while several white peacocks sat perched on the hedge that made up the driveway up to the manor. Several limousines queued around the ornate fountain that sat in the middle of the driveway’s roundabout. Draco looked over, as Harry eyed the building, the limos, the women in ball gowns and the men in black tie. Draco tried looking at it from Harry’s perspective, and he realized how overwhelming it must be. Draco had grown up in this world, parties for every occasion. A tux before he was even old enough to walk or talk. Speaking four languages by five and being able to schmooze with dignitaries by nine. Vaguely Draco wondered what Christmas was like at the Potter household.

When they’d reached the front of the queue, the door was opened for them by a valet, who took the car to be parked. Draco hooked his arm in the crook of Harry’s elbow. “Ready?” he asked. Harry smiled at him, and Draco felt lighter already. _Everything was going to be okay_ , he thought, following Harry into the Manor.

The foyer was bright, for Christmas, several stern-looking portraits of Draco’s relatives hung in the hallway between bright lights, that seemed to illuminate the portraits in an eerie sort of glow that made them look as though they were staring at you. If Harry was bothered by any of this, however, he didn’t show it. Instead, they stood in the queue to be greeted by Narcissa and Lucius as they entered the ballroom.

“Weird to think you have to queue to meet your own parents,” Harry whispered. Draco chuckled. He didn’t _have_ to wait he supposed, but he preferred it. The longer it took, the more time Draco had to figure out how to prepare for Lucius’s undoubtedly pointed forthcoming questions. When at last they reached the front of the queue, Draco beamed at his parents, as he introduced Harry.

“Mother, father, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend. Harry Potter,” he said. Harry took Narcissa’s hand, giving her a bow as he leaned down to kiss the back of her hand. Narcissa grinned, and Draco knew she was taken with him already. He had never doubted Harry’s ability to win over his mother. Harry stood, fully upright as he greeted Lucius, hand outstretched to offer him a firm, gentleman’s handshake. Lucius looked, surprisingly impressed at Harry’s handshaking prowess, and Draco couldn’t help but grin as he steered Harry into the ballroom and as far away from his parents as possible. _Lord but he wanted a drink._ The bar was across the ballroom, and Draco was tempted to make a beeline for it. But he couldn’t. Draco hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since he’d learned Harry had been an alcoholic and though he desperately wanted the distraction, he found he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he had pulled aside one of the waiters floating around the ballroom and asked him for a seltzer water and lime. The man nodded, and vanished, leaving Draco standing close to Harry, as they watched Draco’s parent’s greeting several MPs. The ballroom was immaculate as always. All light blues, like icicles that were currently hanging from the ceiling, giving the room a chilly effect. Several large Christmas trees were dotted around the room, ornately decorated in a manner that Draco found tacky these days. So many gold and silver baubles. 

“I can’t imagine what it was like growing up in all of this,” Harry said, taking in the scenery. Draco smiled despite himself.

“I always remember admiring my parents. My father for the way people seemed to either be insanely jealous of him, or fear him, and my mother for her regal air. This was the life I thought I wanted for most of my childhood,” Draco admitted. The waiter reappeared with his seltzer then and Draco took the drink gratefully and slipped the man a fifty pound note.

“And then?” Harry asked.

Draco smirked, “I realized I preferred the company of other men more than I wanted to get married to some rich girl my father chose for me and live forever trapped in a loveless marriage with a child, living in this museum.” Harry eyed him as Draco sipped his seltzer. “It’s not what it looks like,” Draco said.

“I’m not judging you.”

“It’s just seltzer water and lime,” Draco replied.

“You don’t have to not drink just because I don’t,” Harry said. “I’m a big boy. I’m more than capable of handling myself.” Draco just grinned, eying Harry up and down.

“I’ll say.”

Harry chuckled, leaning into Draco’s ear. “Who knew YouTube’s favorite beauty guru had such a filthy mouth.”

Draco purred, “You _love_ my filthy mouth,” he said with a grin. A throat cleared to the side of them, and Draco froze, turning to find his parents standing directly beside them. _Shite._ “Hello father,” he said. Narcissa looked amused while Lucius looked murderous.

“Draco. Your mother and I were hoping you would introduce us further to your, gentleman friend here,” Lucius ground out the word, gentleman friend in a way that made Draco cringe. Harry took it in stride, however, smiling brilliantly in a way that made Draco want to climb in his lap and never leave.

“What would you like to know?” Harry asked.

“What do you do for work?” Lucius said it sounded like a challenge and Draco didn’t like this one bit. He knew what would come if Harry admitted either profession. Lucius _barely_ tolerated that Draco did YouTube. To date another YouTuber, that would be beyond the pale for his father. Tantamount to treason.

“I work for the Met actually. I’ve been with them for about four years now.” Lucius sniffed disdainfully. Narcissa beamed.

“How wonderful,” she said. “My great uncle was a constable for the Met!” she said delightedly.

Lucius merely stared at his wife, aghast, and Draco couldn’t help but chuckle at the look of sheer horror on his father’s face at that revelation. His night was already going better than he’d dared hope just two hours earlier. Narcissa and Harry fell easily into conversation, leaving Draco to deal with his father, otherwise alone. Harry held an arm around Draco’s waist while he spoke to Narcissa and Draco was comforted and grounded by the embrace.

Lucius merely stared at Harry's arm as if it had offended him.

“Draco,” he began, sounding very disappointed. “I have tried very hard to understand you and your choices these past few years. I did not begrudge you your, sexual proclivities,” Draco bit back a snort at that. It was true, Lucius had taken it better than expected, but to say he hadn’t begrudged Draco his sexuality was a bold faced lie and they both knew it. Draco wouldn’t argue that fact, however. “Nor even when you decided to use our family name for…” he shuddered. “Internet fame. But really, there are plenty of more suitable gentleman that are more than interested…” Draco glared, cutting off his father’s rant then and there.

“When will you learn that I’m not going to just let you marry me off like I’m chattel?” Draco demanded, his voice rising with every syllable. “I love Harry. Why can’t that be enough for you!” he demanded. The ballroom fell deathly silent, and Draco flushed crimson. He and Harry had not said the word ‘love’ aloud yet. Draco hadn’t even wanted to think it, yet here he was, shouting it at his father, like a madman. Draco swallowed, barely able to look Harry in the face then. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, and he was sure he could almost guess the face Harry was currently giving him. _Wonder._ It was the same face Harry often gave when Draco did something that surprised him. Draco swallowed chancing a glance upwards in Harry’s direction. Harry was staring at him with those wide green eyes as if trying to figure him out like a riddle.

“Do you really?” Harry asked, barely above a whisper. Draco stared down at the ballroom floor and nodded. The crowd waited on baited breath for Harry’s response. Draco swallowed, his heartbeat racing in his ears as he felt hundreds of eyes on them now. Harry moved his arm from around Draco’s waist and held his hands instead. Draco looked up then, Harry was grinning.

“Thank god, I love you too,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist again, pulling him in for a kiss. The ballroom erupted into applause as they kissed. Slow, and passionate. The kiss was more amazing than anything Draco had experienced up until that point, even all their other kisses combined. It was magical, and Draco never wanted the kiss to end. All too soon for Draco’s liking, Harry pulled away, the music had begun once more in earnest, Draco realized, and all around them, couples were waltzing together. “You want to get out of here?” Harry asked against his lips. Draco blushed crimson but nodded lacing their fingers together, as Harry pulled him out of the ballroom. Lucius gaped at them.  _It was,_ Draco thought, _the best Christmas he’d ever had._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas day at the Potter household doesn't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance for this. Angst ahead!

Christmas day found Harry and Draco in Surrey, having brunch with Harry’s mother and stepfather. Or at least, this had been the plan, only they were already late, _Harry’s fault,_  Draco thought with a bit of a blush.Harry had taken one look at Draco as he’d come out of the shower and insisted that though they had only a few hours before they were expected in Surrey, they had more than enough time for Harry to slam Draco up against the nearest surface (the dresser) and have his way with Draco. Not that Draco was about to complain, only now it was nearing noon and the man of the house, Severus, was looking particularly perturbed as they stepped through the door. For his part, Harry looked appropriately chastised, scratching the back of his neck as they stepped into the living room where Lily was sitting on the couch. She stood up instantly at her son’s arrival and wrapped him in a hug.

“Harry darling! I was starting to get worried!” Lily said. Draco held back a comment about it being all Harry’s fault for being so insatiable but thought better of it. He didn’t know if Mrs. Potter shared Harry’s sense of humor, and as it was, her new husband did not strike Draco as the sort to appreciate _any_ sort of humor, so it seemed best to remain silent.

“Sorry mum,” Harry said as he hugged his mother. Draco stood, uncomfortably off to the side, not wanting to interrupt the moment. He wondered how often Harry and Lily saw one another these days. “Mum,” Harry said pulling away from Lily, moving towards Draco. He suddenly felt his heart racing, and he couldn’t help but hope this would go well. Lily smiled, turning her attention toward Draco. Her smile fell immediately, and Draco felt like he might throw up. “This is Draco. Draco Malfoy,” Harry said, he was looking at Draco, and clearly hadn’t noticed his mother’s sudden, adverse reaction. Lily swallowed, offering a shaky hand to Draco. Draco looked between Harry and Lily wondering whether or not he ought to take it. Harry merely stared at Draco quizzically then turned to his mother who had gone very pale all of the sudden. “Mum, you okay?” Lily let her hand fall to the side, and nodded, shakily, forcing herself into the chair where she had previously been sitting.

Draco frowned, he was _sure_ he’d screwed this up somehow. Lily was still shaking, and Severus had appeared by her side now, he and Harry were trying to get Lily to say something, but she couldn’t. She was staring at Draco with wide, sad, accusatory eyes. The word doe eyes popped into Draco’s mind unbidden as he looked everywhere but back at the woman.

“Mum?” Harry sounded so worried, and Draco just wanted to vanish into a hole in the earth. _Anything_ to make this unpleasantness go away. Nowhere in his upbringing had Draco learned the proper etiquette of what to do when the mother of your boyfriend decided that the mere sight of you would bring her to tears. And she was sobbing now, Draco noted.

Something was very wrong, but Draco couldn’t bring himself to ask, or to speak to her, worried that any words on his part would only drag more emotion from the woman. Lily cleared her throat, and Draco forced himself to look at her. She was staring at him in a way that made Draco want to crawl out of his skin. For a long moment no one spoke, Harry and Severus looked uncomfortably between Draco and Lily as they looked uncomfortably at each other until Lily finally spoke.

“You…” she swallowed. “You look so much like him you know?” she said. Draco fell to his knees in front of the woman then. There was only one person she could be talking about. His hands were shaking now, and Harry stared at the two of them still confused.

“Mum?” Harry said as Draco kneeled in front of her, and upon looking at his boyfriend, Harry realized Draco was in tears too. Harry stared between the two of them, feeling tears threatening to overcome him as well. Draco's eyes widened as the realization hit him. 

“Oh my God,” Draco gasped, tears falling freely now. Harry turned to Severus, looking pleadingly at him as though he expected him to have the answers. Severus merely held up his hands to say he was as confused as Harry was. Harry turned back around to find Draco hugging his mother now, whispering apologizes at her as the two of them sobbed.

“Mum? Draco? Will someone _please_ explain what’s going on!” Harry demanded, hating how his voice quivered as he spoke.

Draco swallowed, closing his eyes, and forcing himself to speak.

“My father is… was a barrister, in 1981. I was only a year old at the time, but I remember reading about the case later,” he paused, to suck in a deep breath, and look over at Lily. She nodded at him, and Draco continued, holding her hand carefully as he spoke. “He d—defended a criminal by the name of Tom Riddle,” Draco said. Harry stared blankly at Draco then.

“What are you saying?” Harry asked.

Draco paused and gave Lily’s hand a small squeeze before he stood and looked at Harry. “My father got the man who killed your father acquitted,” Draco said carefully.

Harry merely gaped at him, then down at his mother who was staring at the floor. Severus stood off to the side, wide-eyed, and looking as though he were about to throw up. Harry shook his head, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the house leaving Draco, Lily, and Severus alone. Draco heard the front door slam and he shuddered. Draco sighed, staring uncomfortably at Lily then at Severus.

“I… I’m sorry to have ruined your Christmas,” he said. Lily for her part merely squeezed his hand comfortingly as Draco stared sadly at the spot where Harry had previously been.

That afternoon, after a tense lunch in which Draco had barely managed to eat more than a few bites, Draco took the train back into London. Alone.

Harry had returned to his mother’s house sometime after one, though he hadn’t even looked at Draco once, so Draco had seen himself out. Apologizing to Lily and Severus once more before he left. Harry didn't follow him, Draco sighed.

The train ride back to London was miserable, and Draco felt as though he might be sick. Halfway there, he’d opted to sneak into the loo to sob and attempt to call Pansy.

“Oh P-Pansy,” he sobbed into her ear. “I think it’s over between me and Harry.”

Pansy gasped on the other end of the line, “What’s happened?” she asked.

“Lucius Bloody Malfoy!” Draco ground out, proceeding to tell her the whole sorted tale.

“Shite,” Pansy said when he’d finished.

Draco sighed, sniffing hard trying to will himself to stop blubbering in a train bathroom. It was unbecoming a Malfoy and more than that, the loo was disgusting.

“If I’d known Pans I…” he trailed off, what _would_ he have done? What _could_ he have done? There was no world in which he didn’t fall madly in love with Harry, and without some sort of device to turn back time and keep his father as far away from Tom Riddle’s defense as possible, Draco knew they always would have ended up here. “I have to go,” he said suddenly, hanging up before Pansy could respond. Shakily, Draco called up his father, dialing furiously. He’d never been so mad in all his life. A moment later, the phone was ringing.

“Hello, Draco,” his father said in his bored drawl that only served to enrage Draco further.

“You son of a bitch!” Draco screeched. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Of course, you bloody don’t,” Draco was shaking, his blood boiling. He wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to accomplish with this call only that he _needed_ to yell at his father. “You’ve ruined my bloody life that’s what!”

Lucius sighed on the other end of the line. “Draco, you are nearly thirty years old, when do you intend to stop blaming for all your problems?” his father asked. Draco snorted.

“When you stop being such a disappointment of a father!” Draco snapped. “You defended the man who murdered Harry’s father… and now he won’t even speak to me. I’m on a bloody train! Alone! All because of your stupid fucking job!” he sobbed. Lucius was quiet for a long moment, while Draco cried. “Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Draco demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said quietly. “I, had no idea.” Draco snorted.

“Well, that’s great. Thank you, father. Truly. I don’t know what I would do without that apology," and with that, Draco hung up the phone, and snuck out of the loo, just in time for the train to arrive at King’s Cross.

Draco stepped out onto the platform with a sigh. His eyes were still red from all his sobbing, and he felt gross from having sat in the loo for what had felt like an eternity, but had been a half hour at best.

Slipping into a cab just outside the station, Draco made his way to Pansy’s flat. For Christmas Harry had given him a key to his flat, but the thought of arriving there without Harry filled him with dread. Draco sighed, staring out the window of the cab as it made its way across the city.

Pansy’s flat, much like the woman herself, was utilitarian, and cold, but chic. It matched Draco’s mood perfectly. Falling onto her grey leather couch, Draco allowed Pansy to stroke his hair, as he stared bleary-eyed at the long expanse of grey wall opposite him, and tried not to sob. When he was ready, Draco knew Pansy would be there to talk to, and get him good and pissed. Draco had never been so grateful for gin in all his life. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thirst is real. Harry works out on live...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love on this once again really I’m so grateful and I <3 you all.   
> ALSO  
> I’m sorry for all the angst but I promise I won’t torture our boys forever. ;* In the meantime enjoy some Harry Thirst Trap goodness and overprotective Pansy ;) This was my favorite chapter to write honestly.

 Two weeks into the new year and Harry had barely moved from off of Ron’s couch since leaving Surrey. A pair of legs wearing brown corduroy slacks stood before him, and Harry knew without looking they could only belong to one person.

“Harry James Potter. You are not going to lay on this couch forever!” Hermione said. “Get up! Go home. Take a _bloody_ shower and go back to work! I’ll not have you lounging about our best friend’s flat forever!” she said. Her tone brooked no argument and though Harry would have wanted to argue, he knew better than to do so. Hermione wasn’t a lead investigator for MI-5 for nothing. Sighing, Harry forced himself to sit up, per his best friend’s command, and finally look up at her face. It was so strangely a mix of both worried and determined. Harry frowned.

“I’m sorry,” he said miserably. Hermione sighed, finally taking pity on him then, and knelt down beside him.

“It’s going to be okay,” she promised.

“Will it?” he asked. He wasn’t sure he knew himself anymore. After Christmas, he hadn’t even attempted to contact Draco, even if he’d thought about him on a near constant basis.

Hermione offered him a weak sort of smile, “As your friend, I respect your feelings, but as your YouTube Account Manager, you haven’t posted in a week and a half and people are starting to get worried. Maybe you should focus on that, hmm?” Harry nodded weakly.

He wasn’t exactly in the mood to make content at present, but Harry knew working out always served to improve his mood, so he supposed the sooner he got to the gym again the better. Perhaps working out could take his mind off of Draco for a little while. Draco with his perfect smile, the beautiful flush of his skin when they kissed, his magnificent pout, and his biting acerbic wit. Harry had been besotted the moment he’d stumbled across Draco’s channel all those months ago. _Draco’s World: It’s my world, you’re just living in it._ Harry had stared at Draco’s channel header, on one side of the header sat Draco, on his knees looking remarkably like a pin-up calendar model in a way that made Harry’s mouth water and his blood move considerably south. On the other was that damned quote. And how accurate that all seemed now. He’d been invited into Draco’s world and he had become obsessed from the first video. If there had been any doubt in his mind that he was bi, Draco’s channel had entirely erased it.

Perversely, as Harry finished his shower at home, and lay in bed, he wanted nothing more than to open the YouTube app on his phone and watch Draco’s videos. Harry sighed. He didn’t understand why he was like this. _It’s my fault we’re not together!_ Harry reminded himself. But it was still too painful. Harry had always wondered what sort of person would defend another man for brutally murdering someone like his father in cold blood.

He knew, logically, it wasn’t Draco’s fault his father had defended Tom Riddle, and holding that against his boyfriend didn’t _really_ make sense, but then he remembered the struggle his mother had gone through for most of his life, being a single mother. Trying to hold everything together on her waitress salary and what little pension she had got from his father’s death. He had only been working for the Met for three years when he’d been killed. He _wanted_ to be with Draco again, but the look on his mother’s face when she’d seen him, as if her greatest nightmare had come to life, Harry couldn’t do that to her again, he thought miserably.

So instead, he lay in his bed, watching Draco’s videos on loop. Sometime around one in the afternoon, Harry got a notification that Draco had posted a new video. Harry clicked on it quickly:

HIATUS! LIFE UPDATE | Draco’s World

Harry frowned as he read the title, then took in the image before him. Draco was sitting in an unfamiliar setting, looking distinctly careworn. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy as though he’d been crying for weeks too. His hair was disheveled and Harry realized he wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. He was, however, wearing an oversized black sweater, that he had covered his hands. Harry frowned at the sight. His beautiful baby was doing _terribly._ Harry felt suddenly very guilty, and very foolish.

“Hey guys,” Draco said with a sniff. “I know I look like shite, don’t come for me. I just wanted to make this video real quick to tell you that I’m going on an indefinite hiatus for a little while. Some stuff has come up in my personal life and I just don’t have the mental energy to put into this right now.

“I’m staying with Pansy for the time being, before I head to France for the rest of the winter, next week,” Draco sighed, sniffing again. “Anyway, I’m going to go before I start blubbering again.” And with that, the screen cut out leaving Harry feeling _very_ distraught. His heart clenched in his chest as the image of Draco looking so devastated and broken was burned into his retinas. _Damn his pride!_ Harry thought forcing himself to get out of bed. He _needed_ to see Draco before he left for France. Leaping up, Harry crossed the bedroom in a few strides and pulled on a pair of trousers, and a t-shirt before he ran downstairs from his flat to the carpark and made his way out towards Pansy’s flat. Grateful he could still remember where the woman lived.

Pansy eyed him disdainfully, the moment she’d opened the door several minutes later. “He’s not here,” she said.

Harry shook his head. “Where…”

“France,” Pansy said her arms folded across her chest. “You’re too late, and frankly Potter, given your selfishness you’re lucky I’ve told you even _that_ much.”

“Selfishness? And how could he already be in France, he said he wasn’t leaving for a week!”

“His father died just after New Year,” Pansy said. “Draco’s been dealing with that ever since.”

Harry swallowed hard at that. “Where is he, Pansy?” Harry demanded.

“Why would I tell _you_ of all people? He hasn’t seen you since Christmas we’re two weeks into the New Year.”

“Pansy please!” Harry begged.

“He’s in Nice and that’s all you’ll get from me,” she said. “Now please, remove yourself from my doorstep,” and with that Pansy slammed the door in his face. Harry frowned, pulling out his phone as he turned back around, and shot Draco a text:

_I’m so sorry to hear about your father. I’m sorry I left, and that I didn’t call sooner. I love you. Please let me know where you are._

Harry sighed, as he hit send on the text and made his way back to his car. _Time to workout,_ he thought, typing a message to Instagram. _Going live on my channel in 20._ And with that, Harry jumped into his car and sped off towards his own home.

Sprinting up the stairs, Harry ran into the second bedroom, his gym, and tore upon the window curtains to reveal the bright, afternoon sun, flooding the room in a warm yellow glow.

Harry loved this room, the gym was his sanctuary, and the natural lighting always made everything feel warm even in the winter. Harry ran to his closet and changed quickly into his work out clothes, opting to forgo a shirt for the live.

_How do I even do this?_ Harry wondered, pulling out his phone he called Ron quickly.

“Ron, how do I go live?”

“YouTube app on your phone mate,” Ron said.

“Thanks,” Harry hung up the phone, set up the ring light Hermione had insisted he needed, to the side of the treadmill where he planned to start and set the phone up in the holder. It had taken him a few moments to get everything set up, but in the end, Harry had been able to go live with a few minutes to spare. Harry grinned, hopping onto the treadmill with glee.

“Hey guys, Harry here, sorry this isn’t going to have the usual music Ron puts in, not sure how to do that honestly, and not looking for a copyright strike, so this is gonna be a little quiet,” he said with a shrug, as he pulled out his old iPod that he used for just such occasions, and put in his earbuds, and began a steady jog.

The Weird Sisters song started on his iPod just as Harry started into a full run. He still couldn’t help but think about Draco however. His usually beautiful smiling face looking so sad, Harry shook his head trying to remember a happier looking Draco. That long, pale expanse of throat just _begging,_ to be bitten. His long blond hair, so silky in Harry’s grasp, eliciting the most beautiful sounds as he pulled on it. Oh those sounds, Harry adored the noises Draco made. The begging, pleading noises as he sat on the precipice of orgasm, begging Harry to give him his release as Harry devoured him whole.

Harry continued running, impossibly faster, the coarse black hair of his chest and abs, glistening against his bronze skin in the bright sunlight. His legs burned, and he knew it was time to switch it up. Hopping off the still moving treadmill, mid-jog. Harry turned the camera to show him in a new spot, away from the treadmill, starting jumping jacks. Harry was grateful for the jockstrap currently keeping everything in place as he leaped into the air.

Harry bit back a moan at the memory of Draco sprawled out on his bed, wearing only one of Harry’s jocks. All pale limbs, just begging to be caressed, and marked, and claimed. Biting his lower lip hard, Harry moved from jumping jacks to one-handed pushups, then sit-ups. His stomach burned from the way he pushed himself to his limits. His body was shaking from the exertion as Harry finished his workout and made his way over to the phone to end the recording. 1HR 59MIN his phone informed him.

He was impressed, moving to his bedroom, Harry collapsed, hot and sweaty onto the bed and began to watch his video back, enjoying watching his form as live comments flashed across the screen. Harry could only catch sight of a few of them, but it was enough.

_HOT!!!_ One comment read.

_Yowza!!!_ Read another. Then.

_Choke me with your sweaty jock zaddy!_

Harry froze, turning off the video then, _that’s enough internet for today,_ Harry thought forcing himself out of bed for a nice long shower, and lunch.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already written most of the rest of this story. There will be 9 chapters total and an epilogue. I know it's been a lot of angst as of late, and I'm sorry. I hate doing this to our boys.

It was during lunch with Hermione, a few days before February, when Harry heard from Draco again. Harry’s eyes widened as he saw Draco’s name flashing across his phone screen. Harry looked up at Hermione then.

“Harry James Potter don’t you…”

Harry answered. Hermione glared.

“Harry?” Draco asked. Relief flooded Harry at the sound of Draco’s voice. He sounded so light, and his voice filled Harry with an unmistakable glee he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

“Hi,” Harry said. “How are you?”

“Better,” Draco replied. “Sorry I only just got your text. I was in a rehab center for exhaustion.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Hermione raised an eyebrow but Harry didn’t seem to notice.

“Well I’d been running around working since before Christmas of course, and then Lucius died and I spent a week trying to deal with that, getting very little sleep because I refused to let mother have to deal with it alone and well… I made it as far as the funeral and then I just collapsed at some point. Honestly, it’s all a little fuzzy. They took me to the hospital first and then Pansy sent me out on the first flight to Nice.”

Harry paled, “I’m so sorry Draco. I wish I’d known.”

Draco sighed, “It’s fine. I’m better now, and it gave me time to relax.”

“Where are you now?” Harry asked.

“Heathrow. Pansy’s been working with mother to get her a flat in London.”

“You’re selling the manor?” Hermione’s arms were folded across her chest.

“Perish the thought,” Draco replied. “Mother would kill me! Besides, it’s a good investment to have anyway. But I refuse to let my mother live alone in that big house. I’m hoping she’ll let me rent it out for events and things, keep some money coming into it.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” Harry said.

“Let’s just hope I can convince mother to let me use it to its full potential. It’s not as if she hasn’t hosted parties there for years, and she still could if she was up for it.”

Harry nodded, and Hermione was tapping her fingers on the table, “I’m glad to hear you’re doing better,” Harry said, “but I better go. Hermione’s giving me the death glare.”

Draco chuckled and oh how Harry had missed that sound. “Give her my love. We’ll talk later yeah?”

“Sure, let’s meet for lunch whenever you’re free,” Harry said.

“I’ll text you,” said Draco and with that, the two hung up.

“Draco gives his love,” Harry said as he placed the phone back down on the table. Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sure.”

Harry sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Interrupting our lunch or the fact that you did it for someone who hasn’t reached out since Christmas?”

“He’s had a lot going on,” Harry said, “And need I remind you. I’m the one who broke it off with him. I’m the one who screwed up here. I should never have let him go.”

“And need _I_ remind you that you were living on Ron’s couch for _weeks,_ beating yourself up over this, and not once did he call. Not _once_ did he try and make things better. When are you going to stop blaming yourself for everything?”

Harry gave his friend a serious look at that. “I don’t blame myself for everything. But his father _did_ die, he was busy.”

“My heart weeps for a man like Lucius Malfoy.”

“That’s rather cold,” Harry said.

“Harry, you’re my friend so the only person I feel anything for is you and as it stands I think you love way too hard and way too easily. You’re letting your feelings blind you to reality.”

“You don’t even _know_ him,” Harry said, feeling rather like a petulant child having to defend the man he loved to his parents.

“I know enough,” she said.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Harry where did he say he was in France?” Hermione asked.

“A rehab place for exhaustion… in Nice.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at that, “Mhmm,” Hermione pulled out her phone and handed it to Harry. Harry stared blankly at her phone for a minute, at the blurry photograph from some French news site Harry couldn’t quite make out. The picture looked to be of a blond-haired man dancing with another man, both of them in profile, but taken from an awkward lower angle that it looked as though it could have been anyone. “He was spotted in a Paris nightclub two nights ago,” she said.

“That could be anyone,” Harry argued handing back the phone.

“The man he was with says it was definitely Draco,” Hermione said.

Harry shook his head, “First of all how many YouTube videos have been made, of men _and_ women who’ve allegedly slept with me? Hell, how many times have naked photos of me supposedly leaked?”

“This isn’t the same!” Hermione argued.

“Frankly even if it _is_ him we aren’t together right now, so he’s allowed to enjoy himself.”

“It’s the point that if he’s lying about this, he’s lying about other things. When are you going to realize that?”

“Why? Why would he lie? What _possible_ reason would he have Hermione? He has the bigger channel of the two of us, he has the bigger bank account, and even if he wanted me just as arm candy he could find literally _any_ man for that.” Hermione frowned. “I know you care about me, and I know that you’re overly protective of me, but I’m a big boy Hermione. I can take care of myself. And I love him, and until he tells me otherwise, I know that he loves me too.” And with that, Harry set a twenty on the table and left.

Three days later found Harry and Draco enjoying lunch together at a chip shop outside London, in an effort to avoid the press. Draco was already waiting for him when he arrived, and Harry couldn’t help but smile as he sat down.

“I took the liberty of ordering for the both of us, hope you don’t mind,” Draco said already tucking into his chips.” Harry shook his head.

“You look fantastic,” he said.

Draco smiled brightly at that, blushing in spite of himself. “Thank you. I must say you’re looking rather dashing yourself,” Draco wrinkled his nose at that but didn't say anything further. 

“How have you been holding up?” Harry asked after a moment.

Draco sighed, “Like I said. Better now. I really needed that break though.”

“What happened? How did he… you know?”

Draco drummed his fingers against the edge of the table, playing with his chips. “After I left your mother’s house I called my father, furious. God, I’d never been so angry in all my life. I yelled and screamed and told him he was a disappointment as a father,” Draco swallowed. “And then three days later, I got the call from my mother that he’d had a heart attack. I thought for a second she was having me on and then, she started crying, and my mother _never_ cries and I knew. I drove… or rather sped through the country back to Wiltshire and spent every waking moment with my mother, doing everything I could to help with the preparations for the funeral.

“I remember, going to it. I remember holding my mother’s hand and I remember coming home, and then the next thing I woke up in the hospital.” Harry frowned placing his hand on top of Draco’s where it rested on the table.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Draco smiled weakly at him all the same. “This whole situation got me thinking. Life’s too short for petty dramas, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry for everything. If I had known…” Harry stopped him, squeezing his hand.

“Really Draco it’s not your fault. I’m sorry I left. I should _never_ have left you.”

“I understand why you did though. I can’t imagine what I would have felt if it were me,” he sighed. “I just wish you hadn’t been ambushed like that.”

Harry shook his head, “All in the past,” he promised. Draco smiled weakly all the same. “So now that you’re back what’s your plan?”

“Well, I don’t exactly want to jump back into my typical schedule with YouTube because that’s how I got here in the first place, so I think I’m going to take it slow for a while. Spend time with mother, we still have a bit to sort through with father’s estate,” Harry gave him a serious look at that. “I know. I know. I promise not to overwork myself there. But there are certain things that must be taken care of and I’ve already been away long enough.” Harry didn’t ask about them, though he _desperately_ wanted to know where they stood. “Luckily I’ve got friends like you and Pans to look out for me,” Draco said. Harry frowned slightly. _Right, friends,_ he thought miserably. “This lunch was fun we should do it again sometime,” Draco said, nibbling on a chip. “Though with hopefully less death talk.”

Harry nodded absently, no longer feeling as hungry as he had earlier. His hand was still on top of Draco’s and belatedly Harry removed it feeling _very_ foolish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry about Hermione being kind of a bitch here. I'm not really sure where it came from it just sort of happened. :P


	8. Chapter 8

Harry was moping. It was early April and the height of Spring, the sun was shining happily, the animals had all come out of hiding from the cold, and Harry was moping. Draco frowned as he sat in front of Harry in the pub. They were supposed to be celebrating. Harry had _finally_ hit a million subscribers on his YouTube channel, in just under a year and a half no less, but Harry looked as miserable as Draco had ever seen him. “Penny for your thoughts,” Draco said, leaning into Harry so that only they could be heard over the raucous celebration. Ron was currently several pints deep, as were most of Harry’s mates from the Met. Hermione was eyeing them dubiously, and though she and Harry had made up from their little fight (that Harry still staunchly refused to explain properly to Draco), he could still feel the tension between them. Harry looked over at Draco then, an odd unreadable expression crossing his face before he just shrugged. “Just tired I guess,” Harry lied. Draco raised an eyebrow but otherwise said nothing. He might have argued the point further, but just then Justin Finch-Fletchly popped down beside Draco, wrapping his arm around Draco’s shoulder, and handed him a pint. Harry tensed visibly at the familiarity between the two men. Not that Draco had noticed. They’d begun dating just after Valentine’s day when Justin had unexpectedly asked Draco out. At first, Draco had been hesitant to accept, he was one of Harry’s co-workers, after all. They had run into each other when Draco had kindly surprised Harry with lunch at his office. Harry had had a strange look on his face when Justin had asked him out, but otherwise, he’d said nothing.

Harry shot up from his seat beside Draco suddenly, “I believe I need another root beer,” he said. Draco frowned, watching Harry walk to the bar, hoping he wasn’t about to give up a decade of sobriety for… what, he wasn’t exactly sure.

Though Harry rarely liked to talk about him and Justin, he had promised he was totally fine with it. “Not awkward at all,” Harry had assured them. Justin had been quick to ask Harry’s permission given he was Draco’s ex and all, and Harry had merely stared at him with an unreadable expression and said the words. Still, Draco was somewhat ill-at-ease. He wouldn’t have invited Justin to the party at all, but he was still friends with Harry (as far as Draco knew) so it stood to reason that Justin would have been just as welcome as anyone.

Harry was glaring at the bar top as if it had personally offended him, and Draco sighed, giving Justin a small kiss on the cheek, and unraveled himself from the other man's embrace and snuck away, making his way over to Harry’s side. Not that Harry noticed Draco sneaking up on him.

“Harry,” Draco said. Harry nearly leaped out of his skin. “This _is_ meant to be a celebration you know,” he said. “You look like you just got told Manchester isn’t making the World Cup this year,” Draco said. Harry lowered his eyes. Manchester _wasn’t_ making the World Cup that year. Harry’s favorite football team and they were down more than they’d been in quite some time. 

“Like I said, just… tired.”

Draco folded his arms across his chest, as was his way and gave Harry a hard look. “If you think for a second you’re going to throw me off with your _just tired_ bit you obviously haven’t met me. How long have we been friends exactly?” he asked.

“Six months give or take.”

“Precisely. And in that time have you _ever_ known me to give up that easily?”

Harry shrugged, trying and failing for the fourth time to get the bartender’s attention. Harry groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. Draco placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry tensed.

“Did Pansy finally get your mother into a flat?” Harry asked.

Draco frowned at the abrupt change of subject. “No, mother freaked out at the last second of nearly signing a lease and said she couldn’t leave the Manor. Started sobbing and making a big scene about not leaving her husband.” Draco sighed at the memory.

Harry nodded.

“So where have you been living then? With Justin?”

Draco snorted. “Pansy actually. I meant to get my own flat, but Pansy likes having a roommate and I like having a roommate, so,” he shrugged. “I hate the idea of leaving mother all alone but every time I try and talk her into staying with us for a while she just spouts off about wanting her independence and says it’s time I go off on my own,” he shrugged. Harry nodded. “Harry, do you have a problem with my seeing Justin?”

“Why would I have a problem with it?” Harry asked, trying actively to flag down the bartender in an obvious attempt to get as far away from the conversation as possible.

“It just seems like… you never really want to talk to me about it.”

“What’s there to talk about, you two seem very happy together,” Harry said. Draco considered this. He supposed they did _seem_ happy but in truth, Draco wasn’t sure what he felt for the other man. He was kind enough if a little tedious, he was no Harry, though Draco had tried and failed to push that thought away on more than one occasion, to no avail. Kissing Justin was lackluster at best, but imagining Harry was almost enough to make it seem like it was better and Draco had forced himself to continue on, if for no other reason than to prove to himself he _could._

“He’s a good bloke,” Draco said for want of anything better to say. It was hardly the most romantic thing he’d ever said, but then, Draco wasn’t there yet. Thus far the two had barely moved beyond kissing, Draco couldn’t stomach the idea of actually having sex with his boyfriend and that _should_ have been a red flag, but Draco had simply chocked it up to being too busy or otherwise too stressed over his mother. Or something. Frankly, the less he thought about it, the better.

“Great,” Harry replied.

“You know if you’re not okay with this you _can_ tell me,” Draco offered. Harry snorted.

“Why wouldn’t I be? We’re friends right?” Harry had given up on trying to get the bartender’s attention then and turned around leaving Draco standing awkwardly at the bar. Sighing, Draco made his way back over to Justin. He was currently on his phone, smiling at the device. Draco shook his head then and plopped down beside him.

“I think I’m going to go,” Justin said after a moment.

Draco frowned. “I’m sorry, let me just get my coat,” Draco moved to find his jacket when Justin stopped him with a hand to his knee.

“You stay and have fun love,” he said. _Love,_ Justin said the word so easily and so without any hesitation. It was so strange Draco thought, so very unlike himself. Draco had still yet to say the word love anywhere near Justin’s presence. He definitely didn’t feel it, and it seemed wrong just to say it simply because the person he was seeing had. Vaguely Draco wondered what it said that in the month or so they’d been together he still hadn’t really felt much for the other man. Affection sure, but Draco was beginning to wonder how much of his relationship was to _prove_ something to himself rather than a connection. Their dates had been memorable, he supposed. Justin was a gentleman, he’d paid for dinner, held open doors for Draco and even pulled out his chair.  So why had Draco spent the whole evening _wishing_ it was Harry across from him instead.

Why had he spent the whole last _month_ wishing Harry was across from him at all of their dates. Justin offered him a kiss on the forehead and not for the first time Draco felt _monumentally_ guilty. He was never going to love Justin as Justin seemed to love him, and Draco thought he _ought_ to let him go. It was the only _fair_ thing to do after all.

“Boyfriend leaving already?” Harry said with what looked to be a mix of smug satisfaction and something else Draco couldn’t quite discern.

Draco nodded, watching Justin leave the bar, he was still staring at his phone. Draco shrugged, turning his attention to Harry then. “Just means you’ve got my undivided attention for the rest of the night,” he said. Harry looked considerably more cheerful at that. “So, what would you like to do now?” he said.

Harry merely shrugged. “Would it be in bad taste to sneak out the back?” he asked.

Draco laughed, “Sneaking out of your own party?”

Harry gave him a look then. “I didn’t even want this party,” he said.

“Harry it’s not every day one hits a million subscribers.” Harry merely shrugged.

“So? It’s not _that_ big a deal,” he said. Draco frowned. “You’ve got like five million.”

“Four point six,” Draco corrected easily. “But this isn’t about me. This is an achievement.”

“It’s not really fun anymore,” Harry said nonchalantly. Draco’s eyes widened at that.

“Since when?”

Harry merely shrugged. “I just feel like I’m keeping my channel going for everyone else you know?”

Draco frowned, staring fully at Harry then, “Harry,” he tried. Harry shook his head.

“It’s fine. It’s not like my channel’s that much work to upkeep I just have to exercise. I just, I feel silly you know? All these people just watching me for my looks.”

“I would think that’s part of the appeal,” Draco said.

“I don’t care about any of that.”

“Well, why did you start your channel?” Draco asked. He knew the answer, but something told him reminding Harry now might help.

“I wanted to help out younger people. Give them someone to look up to.”

“And that’s why you’ve kept up with it,” Draco said. “You’re a role model, sure it seems like just a fit bloke exercising, but people _do_ look up to you. They see you as someone who’s been through a lot and they respect that.” Harry had started recently interspersing his usual videos with taking questions from his fans and talking about his personal life in a way that Draco found admirable.

“I guess,” Harry said.

“Maybe you should take a break from it then, at the very least. I wouldn’t quit altogether, it’s been very lucrative for you and I’d hate to see you give up all that. Especially _now._ ”

Harry nodded. Draco smiled then, and Harry smiled back. Draco had felt their friendship had been sort of awkward since he’d returned from France. As if Harry was always on the verge of telling Draco something important but refusing to actually do so. He had tried and failed, to question Hermione about it, whenever they were all together, and he could get her alone, but Hermione had been wholly uncooperative.

Draco had wanted to ask Harry why he’d been acting so strangely, but he couldn’t ever seem to bring himself to do so.

“Maybe I should go to France myself,” Harry said suddenly.

Draco smiled, “It’s lovely if you’re going for a rest,” he admitted.

“Is it?” Harry asked, frowning again.

“I’ve been their loads of times before...” he paused, not really wanting to relive the drama he’d suffered earlier in the year. “Paris has great nightlife.”

“I’ll bet,” Harry said. Draco eyed him.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Well since you brought it up,” Harry said turning to face him fully now, he looked furious, more so than Draco had ever seen him, and he was somewhat taken aback by the intensity of it all. “Where were you really back in January?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said you were in Nice for exhaustion. But Hermione found an article that said you were at a club in Paris.”

Draco snorted, staring at Harry incredulously.

“You’re joking.” Harry merely continued looking annoyed, and Draco sighed. “Right. Well, let’s see it then. Granger!” he yelled. Hermione turned from where she was having an animated discussion with Ron and glared. “Come here please,” for a moment she looked as though she might refuse until Harry shot her a pleading look, and Hermione sighed, loudly, and stood, making her way across the room towards them.

“What?” she demanded, hand on her hips.

“Harry tells me you have an article about me?” Draco said. “I’d like to see it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out her cell phone searching through her browser to find the article she’d saved and handed Draco the phone. Draco stared at the article for a moment, and laughed. Harry was glaring fully now.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” he said.

Draco snorted, trying to stifle a chuckle then. “Do either of you actually _read_ French?” Hermione flushed, looking rather caught out.

“I can speak it, well enough,” she said.

Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well if you _had_ actually read it, you would know that the article was from nine months ago, and mentioned me because the owner of the club is an old family friend. I’d gone to his club to help drum up promotion for it during the summer. That picture isn’t even _of_ me. It was just someone who looked like me.” Hermione looked completely aghast then, spluttering for something to say. Draco handed her back her phone, standing up. “You know, I expect this kind of treatment from you,” he said to her, “But you…” he rounded on Harry then. “I would think you’d trust me just a little bit more than that.” And with that, Draco turned on his heel and left the party early.

Harry merely stared at the spot where Draco had previously been standing, then up at Hermione with a glare.

“We’re you just _trying_ to find something to make me hate him?” he asked.

Hermione shook her head, “No I…” Harry shook his head, standing up then as well, and stormed out of the bar shortly after Draco, leaving his friend staring after him.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Fully perturbed, Draco had decided to go to Justin’s flat in an effort to take his mind of Harry’s mistrust. He’d spent the whole drive over, working himself into a state, ready to finally let Justin fuck him. It was long past time he decided, he was going to do it! He told himself, standing in front of Justin’s flat. Draco raised his fist to knock. He froze, his hand hovering just over the door, now merely feet from Justin and the inevitability of them _actually_ doing it, he was starting to have second thoughts. Sighing, Draco let his head fall onto the door. Without warning the door opened and Draco tumbled into Justin’s living room. The room was devoid of life he realized as he looked up from the floor. Draco eyed the door standing open in plain view, it wasn’t like Justin to leave his front door unlocked and somewhat ajar, he thought.

Draco suddenly felt very nervous. There were sounds coming from the other room and vaguely he wondered if someone hadn’t broken into his boyfriend’s home while he was away and now Draco had stumbled onto their crime. Pulling himself up, Draco crawled carefully on his hands and knees over to Justin’s couch, peering towards the direction of Justin’s bedroom where the noise appeared to be coming from. It was then, as he strained to get closer to the room, he heard the unmistakable squeak of a bed, and a loud, low moan.

Draco raised an eyebrow at that, dragging himself to his full height, Draco approached the barely closed bedroom door, the closer he got, the louder the sounds became, until the only sound Draco could hear was the loud smack of skin on skin that could only be caused by one thing. Draco stood in the door jam, unable to move as he watched his boyfriend, sprawled on his own bed, currently getting fucked, rather spectacularly by the looks of it, into the mattress by none other than Blaise Zabini. Draco would have laughed. The whole scene was surreal, almost unbelievably so, and for the life of him, Draco couldn’t find it in himself to be particularly mad about it. If anything he felt oddly relieved. _Right,_ he thought, shaking his head. Neither of them seemed to have noticed him and Draco snorted at the thought. For a brief moment he thought to say something, _anything,_ but nothing came to mind. Instead, Draco turned on his heel, and stepped out into the living room again, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, Draco sat on the couch, taking the bottle with him. Crossing his legs one over the other, Draco drank and waited. Eventually, they would have to come out, and in the meantime, Draco could think of what he planned to say.

He was on his fourth glass of whiskey by the time they had finally finished, and for a brief moment Draco wondered if they planned to bask in the glow of their orgasm, and then he heard the floor of the bedroom squeak. Draco smirked to himself.

“Draco?” Justin said a few moments later. Draco turned to face his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, who was still wholly naked as he’d walked out of the bedroom.

“Finished then?” he asked.

Justin swallowed hard. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough. Got a pretty good eyeful too earlier, not that either of you noticed.”

“I noticed,” Blaise said as he walked out of the bedroom, fully dressed. Draco snorted. _Of course, he had._

“So. I guess it’s fair to say you and I need to talk,” Draco said to Justin. Blaise had made his way to the door then, and Draco resisted the urge to chuck the bottle of whiskey at his former friend’s head. It seemed rather a waste of alcohol and just then Draco didn’t want to waste a single drop. Justin and Blaise shared a look, and with that, Blaise was gone, leaving only Draco and Justin in the room.

“I can explain,” he said.

“I’m sure,” Draco replied, gesturing for Justin to take a seat on the opposite sofa. Justin moved nervously towards it and sat down as Draco poured himself another generous helping. He was tempted to just drink straight from the glass, only his posh upbringing stopped him. For a moment, Justin merely stared at him, and Draco raised an eyebrow. “Well? Thinking up a proper lie or can’t you do it on the spot?”

Justin flushed. “It’s not what it looked like,” he tried.

Draco laughed then. “ _Really?_ That’s the line you’re going to go with. My Fletchly, I do hope you aren’t this atrocious with criminals.” Justin flushed at that and Draco snorted. “Why don’t you try _the truth,_ though I presume you aren’t well acquainted with it. It could be a nice change.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Justin said.

“That’s better. Still a lie but I almost believed it. How long?” Justin was quiet and Draco glared. “How long,” he repeated.

“We’ve been friends with benefits for years,” Justin said. Draco snorted. Of course, they were. Several thoughts raced in Draco’s mind then. _Why had he pursued him then? Why aren’t I madder?_ Draco didn’t say any of these things, however.

“Right,” Draco dropped his glass of whiskey onto the coffee table and stood. Justin looked up at him then.

“Are you leaving?” Justin asked.

Draco snorted. “That’s the idea,” he said making his way to the front door.

“You can’t go. I love you!” he said then. Draco laughed again, staring at his naked ex-boyfriend.

“Well that’s just too damn bad,” and with that, Draco turned on his heel and made his way out of Justin’s flat forever. Draco was amazed how well he’d kept it together given he’d drank about half a bottle of whiskey in under a half an hour and had barely eaten much that day. He supposed it was his posh upbringing again. Being able to hold your liquor was a specialty of his parent’s ilk and Draco had learned this at a young age. Still, as he called himself a cab, Draco couldn’t _help_ that the address he’d given was not to Pansy’s flat. He hadn’t exactly _actively_ thought about it, but ten minutes later found Draco standing in front of Harry’s door. He knocked, waiting for Harry to open the door. He’d considered just using the key Harry had given him, he’d meant to give it back a dozen times over the last few months but every time he’d kept it anyway as a sort of memento. Harry had never _actually_ asked for it back and Draco had merely held it with him basically wherever he went. Whether to torture himself or as a reminder, he couldn’t say. Moments later, the front door opened and Harry appeared, wearing only his flannel pajama bottoms. Draco felt himself drooling at the sight. Harry’s hair looked even more sleep mussed than usual, and Draco wondered briefly if he’d woken Harry up.  _What time is it?_

“Draco?” he asked.

“Can I come in?” Draco asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet then. Harry nodded, stepping aside for the blond.

“Everything okay?” Harry asked.

Draco sighed, falling onto Harry’s couch. “I caught my boyfriend getting fucked by my best friend but other than that…” Draco said. Harry’s eyes widened as he shut the door and crossed the living room towards his couch.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry said.

Draco nodded. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “I shouldn’t have stormed out of your party like that.”

“I shouldn’t have accused you of lying,” Harry said.

Draco frowned slightly, staring at Harry sitting beside him. _God, he’d missed this._ Why had he _ever_ thought it a good idea not to fight for this more? Why had he been fighting him at all? Briefly, he looked down at Harry’s lips, wanting nothing more than to climb in his lap and kiss him. Harry was staring at him, possibly at his lips too though Draco couldn’t be certain of this fact. For a brief moment they held each other’s gaze, and Draco opened his mouth to speak. His stomach roiled then and Draco shot up and ran to Harry’s bathroom; he’d almost not made it before the entire contents of his otherwise empty stomach emptied into the toilet bowl. He supposed cake, beer, and whiskey was not the _best_ mixed. Harry was at his side in an instant, rubbing small circles into his back as Draco continued to sick up into his toilet. It was mortifying, or at least it might have been if Draco didn’t feel so nauseous and like he wanted to die.

When at last the vomiting had stopped Draco rinsed his mouth in the sink, Harry helped him walk back to the couch. Harry stood grabbing him a glass of water and Draco drank it gratefully, resting his head in Harry’s lap as the man stroked his hair until he’d fallen asleep.

The next morning, the mortification hit him full force. His head was pounding, and though he felt considerably less nauseous, the thought of dragging himself off of Harry’s couch made him want to be ill. Burrowing under the blanket Harry had deposited on him sometime during the night, Draco stayed there. He knew Harry’s flat well enough to grab an aspirin, but he thought coffee sounded like a good idea just then too.

After several moments, Draco forced himself to get up, slowly, so as not to upset his already pounding head, and made his way over to the loo and grabbed a Tylenol. Filling his hand with water Draco took the pill, and made his way out into the living room, folding up the blanket Harry had given him, and placing the pillow on top before he pulled on his shoes and made his way out the front door. Locking it with his key. Draco smiled. It was a simple, familiar action but it made him feel happier than he had in months all the same. Fortunately, it was still early enough that the sun had not yet risen, as Draco made his way down the road towards the coffee shop he and Harry had frequented many times when they had been together. Slipping inside, Draco almost regretted his decision the moment the whirring of a jet engine, or at least that’s what it sounded like, greeted his ears. His whole body felt as though it were under attack then. His eyes burned, and his teeth ached as his head throbbed. With some amount of effort, Draco managed to push through and up to the counter ordering himself a black coffee with a double shot of espresso, and a much too sweet caramel coffee for Harry. Briefly Draco considered ordering himself a donut, but the thought of eating anything at the moment seemed too risky so instead, he paid for his coffee’s and made his way back towards Harry’s flat just as the sun began to rise. Draco was grateful for his back being to the rising sun, then, feeling rather like he imagined a vampire might. Squinting, Draco fished his keys out of his pocket, balancing the coffees in one hand and let himself into Harry’s flat once more.

Harry stood in the kitchen, looking rather surprised to see Draco in his flat.

“You’re up,” Draco said with a smile.

“You’re here,” Harry said. “I thought maybe you’d gone.” Draco merely smiled at him and handed him his coffee.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything, and apologize for last night,” Draco had been mortified at his drunken behavior but Harry merely waved him off. For a long moment, neither one spoke, the two of them enjoying their coffee in silence. Draco found his headache was blessedly subsiding and he couldn’t help but be grateful for this fact.

“I didn’t realize you still had the key,” Harry said after a moment. Draco eyed him.

“Would you like it back?” he asked. Harry shook his head. “No it’s fine I just… you’ve not really ever used it. It was weird seeing someone just walk into my flat like that. I kind of liked it though.” He offered Draco a warm smile then, “I’ve missed this,” Harry said after a moment.

Draco nodded. “I have too,” he admitted, sipping his coffee. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be the one to admit that he wanted things to go back to the way they were. He wasn’t even sure if they _could_ go back. But he knew he wanted Harry more now than he’d ever wanted him before.

“Listen,” Harry said after a moment. “I don’t know if we… I mean, I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to go back to where we were. And maybe that’s a good thing. But I’d like to give us another chance.”

Draco smiled brightly at Harry then. “I’d like that too,” he admitted. Harry grinned at him, and for the first time in a long time, Draco felt certain that things were going to be okay between them.

 


	10. Epilogue: The Boyfriend Tag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is it! The last chapter. I'm both excited and a little sad to see it ending.

 Six months later, and it was nearing Halloween again, Draco could hardly believe it had been almost a year since he’d first met Harry, and six fabulous months together in which they had both decided to take things considerably slower than they had the first time around. Through some amount of coaxing, and with the help of Harry no less, Draco had managed to convince his mother to agree to a flat in London, with her sister Andromeda. Draco was still living with Pansy most of the time, though he managed to sneak into Harry’s flat any chance he got. For their one year anniversary, Harry and Draco found themselves sitting in front of the camera, Draco laying his head on Harry’s shoulder as they prepared to film their latest collab.

“Hey guys,” Draco said with a smile. “So today, Harry and I have fi _nally_ decided to film the boyfriend tag video. A lot of you guys have been requesting this of both of us for months now, and honestly, there isn’t a good reason we’ve never done it, it just is sort of one of those things. But we’re doing it now in honor of our one year anniversary, so let’s get started,” Draco pulled out his phone and the list of questions. “Where did we meet?”

“YouTube,” Harry answered easily.

Draco laughed, “Right. Fair.”

“Where was our first kiss?” Draco asked. Harry pondered this a second.

“I want to say it was outside of Hermès on our first date?” he said. Draco grinned.

“Sounds good to me,” he said with a laugh. “Oh, who said I love you first?”

“As I recall, it wasn’t so much you saying I love you, as _shouting_ that you loved me at your father,” Draco laughed, blushing slightly at that.

“Yes, well.” Harry smiled wrapping his arm around Draco’s shoulders to give him a soft kiss on the temple. “Ooh, what food don’t I like?”

Harry paused, considering this. “I feel like there isn’t much of anything I’ve ever heard you say you don’t like.”

Draco smirked. “I’m not like a huge fan of cauliflower but it doesn’t come up much in my day to day life,” he said with a shrug.

“Fair. Okay, what foods don’t I like?” Harry challenged. Draco laughed.

“I’ve _never_ seen you turn down any food,” he said.

“Accurate. Though I’m not a fan of Brussel sprouts.”

“You heard it here first guys,” Draco said with a smirk. “Okay. What are my weird habits?”

“I mean, I find all of your habits rather cute,” Harry admitted. “So like, I feel like I’m the wrong person to ask that because I just find you so adorable.”

“Aww, that’s, bullshit for one,” Draco replied. “But sweet bullshit.”

“What do you think it is then?”

“Well, I’m oddly perfunctory about things, like I alphabetized your medicine cabinet once.”

“That was, strange. But cute.” Draco sighed rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. “For you, I would say it’s probably not _that_ weird, but definitely not how I grew up. You are almost _never_ fully dressed when I come over. Like you’re either in your pants, or like pajama bottoms, or something, like seeing you _fully_ dressed is unexpected at this point, and not that I’m complaining by any means, but I was not raised like that like we didn’t even come to breakfast in our pajamas. You got fully dressed for the day first.”

Harry laughed, “Now _that,_ is strange.”

“Oh, here’s one, what do I do that you hate?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Nothing?” Draco asked.

“Well first of all hate’s a strong word, _but_ yeah you’re quick-tempered at times, so am I, but like no. Nothing you do I hate.”

Draco smirked as he considered this, “Well alright then.”

“You?”

“Hmmm… It does annoy me sometimes when you get up at four am to exercise because I’m definitely not a morning person, but I wouldn’t say I hate it either.”

“See?” Draco laughed.

“Right. Last question. This is a big one. Do you think I’m your soulmate?” Draco paused nervously after that one, worrying his bottom lip.

“Absolutely,” Harry said without hesitation. Draco grinned.

“Good! Well, there you have it folks, the boyfriend tag…”

“Wait, you didn’t answer,” Harry said cutting him off.

Draco gave him a look. “ _Obviously_ I do as well,” he said. Harry laughed, giving him a soft kiss then. Draco ended the video and climbed into Harry’s lap to deepen their kiss. The last six months had been the best of Draco’s life, and he knew he never wanted to go back again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read and loved this story. If you'd like to see more you can find me at mothermalfoy.tumblr.com xo


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